something that loves it, so that it will 
never be neglected. The grain crop is loved 
by the weevil, ‘the Hessian fly and the 
chinch-bug; the watermelon, the squash 
and the cucumber are loved by the squash- 
bug; the potato is loved by the potato-bug; 
the sweet corn is loved by the ant, thou 
sluggard; the tomato is loved by the cut¬ 
worm; the plum is loved by the curculio, 
and so forth, and so forth, so that no plant 
that grows need be a wall-flower. (Early 
blooming and extremely dwarf joke for 
the table. Plant as soon as there is no 
danger of frosts in drills four inches apart. 
When ripe pull it, and eat raw with vin¬ 
egar. The red ants may be added to taste.) 
Well, I began early to spade up my angle- 
worms and other pets to see if they had 
withstood the severe winter. I found they 
had. They were unusually bright and 
cheerful. The potato-bugs were a little 
sluggish at first, but as the spring opened 
and the ground warmed up, they pitched 
right in and did first-rate. Every one ol 
my bugs in May looked splendidly. I was 
most worried about my cut-worms, and I 
•began to fear they had suffered and perhaps 
perished in the extreme cold of the previous 
winter. 
One morning late in the month, however, 
I saw a cut-worm come out from behind a 
cabbage stump and take off his ear-muff. 
He was a little stiff in the joints, but he 
had not lost hope. I saw at once now was 
the time to assist lnm if I had a spark of 
humanity left. I searched every work I 
could find on agriculture to find out what 
it was that farmers fed their blamed cut¬ 
worms, but all scientists seemed to be silent. 
I read the agricultural reports, the diction¬ 
ary and the encyclopedia, but they didn’t 
throw any light on the subject. I got wuld. 
I feared that I had brought but one cut¬ 
worm through the winter, and was liable to 
lose him unless I could find out what to 
feed him. I asked some of my neighbors, 
but they spoke jeeringly and sarcastically. 
I know now how it was. All their cut¬ 
worms had frozen down last winter, and 
they couldn't bear to see me get ahead. 
All at once an idea struck me. I haven't 
recovered from the concussion yet. It was 
this: The worm had wintered under a cab¬ 
bage stalk; no doubt he was fond of the" 
beverage. I acted upon this thought and- 
bought him two dozen red cabbage plants,- 
at 50 cents a dozen. I hit it the first pop.- 
He was passionately fond of these plants,- 
and would eat three in one night. He also 
had several matinees and sauerkraut festi¬ 
vals for his friends; and in a week I bought 
three dozen more cabbage plants. By this 
time I had collected a large group of com¬ 
mon scrub worms, early Swedish cut¬ 
worms, dwarf Hubbard cut-worms and 
shorthorn cut-worms, all doing well, but 
still, I thought, a little hide-bound and 
jilious. They acted languid and listless. As 
my squash-bugs, currant worms, potato- 
jugs, etc., were doing well without care, 
1 devoted myself almost exclusively to my 
cut-worms. They were all strong and well, 
but they seemed melancholy with nothing 
to eat day after day but eabbages.- 
I therefore bought five dozen tomato 
{ilants that were tender and large. These 
I fed to the cut worms at the rate of eight 
or ten in ouh night. In a week the cut> 
worms had thrown off that air of ennui and 
languor that 1 had formerly noticed, and 
were gay and light hearted. I got them 
some more tomato plants, and then some 
more cabbage for change. On the whole 
I was proud as any young farmer who has 
made a success of anything. 
One morning I noticed that a cabbage 
plant was left standing unchanged. The 
next day it was still there. I was thunder¬ 
struck. I dug into the ground. My cut¬ 
worms were gone. I spaded up the whole 
patch, but there wasn't one. Just as I had 
become attached to them, and they had 
learned to look forward each day to my 
coining, when they would almost come up 
and eat a tomato plant out of my hand, 
someone had robbed me of them. I was 
almost wild with despair and grief. Sud¬ 
denly something tumbled over my foot. It 
was mostly stomach, but it had feet on 
each corner. A neighbor said it was a 
warty toad. He had eaten up my summer's 
work. He had swallowed my cut-worms. 
I tell you, gentle reader, unless some way 
is provided whereby this warty toad scourge 
can be wiped out, I for one, shall relinquish 
the joys of agricultural pursuits. .When a 
